The Ways of a Dragon
by planless
Summary: The first time Thranduil entered the mountain, he felt nothing but surprise and shock. The second time he entered the mountain, he almost lost his life. The third time something changed. And from there on, a strange kind of friendship bloomed.
1. Chapter 1

_"I orod adnalla."_

_The mountain calls again._

Thranduil inclined his head, indicating he was listening. Oropher turned around to face his son, a look of worry showing on his timeless features.

"Thranduil", he addressed his son, who, in turn, straightened up to look him in the eye. "I need you to go and find the source of its unrest."

The blond elf nodded once, showing he understood. "You will leave immediately."

This took him by surprise.

"Why so soon? The signs have been showing for some time now. Surely it is safe enough to wait until daybreak at least."

Oropher shook his head, dark blue eyes clouded with concern.

"I have a feeling we have already waited for too long. Go now,_ ion nîn_. Everything is already set and ready for your departure."

Thranduil hesitated for a short moment, wondering what it was that disturbed his father so greatly, but decided it would be best to heed his wishes.

"_Heniannen, adar_. I will be on my way then."

"Be careful, my son", Oropher murmured. "We don't know what awaits you at the mountains of Greenwood."

Bowing once to his father, his right hand resting upon his heart, Thranduil turned to leave. He strode to his rooms at a forced pace, the determined clicking of his heels on the wooden floor the only sound in the otherwise silent elven palace.

Midnight had only passed and few elves were up at this hour. Except the guards, most of them were asleep and right to do so.

When he entered his quarters, Thranduil immediately shed his dresses and moved swiftly to the other end of the room where his armour was being kept on a rack hidden behind a thick gray curtain.

After changing into a soft tunic of a dark blue colour and comfortable trousers he started donning his suit of armour, piece by piece. The polished metal shimmered in the soft light the burned down fire cast through the chamber and once he had secured the last strap he turned towards his weapons.

With nimble fingers he fastened a set of daggers to his belt, followed by a pair of twin-swords. He slung a quiver full of white feathered arrows over his shoulder, secured his bow and left his quarters without looking back.

Finding his way through the labyrinthine halls of the palace he passed his father's rooms. For a moment he contemplated bidding a final farewell, but in the end decided against it. The king would want him to depart as soon as possible.

So he strode on, passing only a few guards as he headed for the southern stables. From there, he would be allowed quick access to Greenwood. The elves bowed respectfully to him, hands upon their hearts, and he nodded at them curtly.

He arrived at the stables without any trouble and soon found a young elleth who held a prancing stallion at the reigns. It shook its head, every muscle beneath the auburn fur shaking with suppressed power. Thranduil couldn't help but smile at the sight. This horse wanted to run.

Approaching the elven maiden he took in the saddlebags strapped to either side of the saddle, as well as a pair of blankets rolled up behind it.

"Is everything ready?", he asked the young woman and, without bothering to greet her properly, took the reigns from her hands. The stallion rose on his hind legs, but Thranduil had him back under control quickly.

Muttering a few words in an attempt to soothe the horse enough for it to stand still, he threw the elleth a questioning look. She nodded.

"Lord Thranduil. There are travelling rations up to ten days packed in your bags, as well as some medicine – just as a precaution", she hastened to add when he scowled lightly.

"Mainly Athelas. Also bandages, both full and empty waterskins, some flintstones and tinder."

Stepping back she bowed to him once he had mounted his horse. It rose lightly before stomping its feet on the ground hardly.

"Travel safe, _hîr nîn,_ and may your mount run swift."

He nodded to her once, then directed the stallion out of the stable, over the open place that stretched in front of it and towards the closed gates. He could feel the horse chewing the bit and tightened his hold on the reigns as it strode forward, clearly upset by his choice of a slow pace.

The guards recognized him easily and opened the gates, through which he led his mount quickly.

Only when they entered the forest he gave free reign to it and the animal shot forward as if it had been waiting for this moment to happen.

* * *

Heavy hooves thundered along the well-worn path leading south, deeper into the forest. In less than an hour they had reached the bridge crossing the Forest River, and if they continued to travel at this speed Thranduil would reach his destination shortly after dawn.

Steadying his horse he reduced its pace to a swift trot. Foam dripped from its mouth to the ground and sweat soaked the heaving flanks. It was easier to ride, now that it had been able to run and spend a good amount of the energy accumulated in its muscles.

He directed his mount on the Elf-path that would bring him near his destination. He would follow it until dawn before setting up camp and giving his horse a break.

The hours passed by in silence and when the sun rose over the tree tops, Thranduil brought his mount to a halt. Patting its neck he slid to the ground, opened one of the saddlebags and rummaged through its content until, finally, he found one of the waterskins.

Taking with him a piece of Lembas, he retreated to a tree with low hanging branches and settled himself on the lowest, watching his horse.

The stallion stretched its big head forward and made a sound that came close to a sigh.

As Thranduil had his meagre breakfast, he pondered over a name for his mount.

In the end, he shrugged, hopped onto the grass and offered the horse a bit of the elvish bread.

"I will call you_ Tûr_, if you do not mind", he told him, combing the white mane with his fingers, carefully undoing some knots. The stallion huffed before turning his head to look at him.

Thranduil smiled lightly. "I take this as a yes then."

Mounting his horse again, he urged him forward. He followed the Elf-path for some hours before slowing Tûr down again, steering him into the covert.

He would have to be careful from here on.

There had been reports concerning the area at the foot of the mountains, unsettling tales of giant spiders who did not hesitate to kill anyone who dared entering their realm.

The elvenking had sent out more than just one squad to rid the forest of those abominations, but they just kept reappearing once everything would have calmed down.

Looking around Thranduil took the bow from his quiver and hooked the bowstring. When he passed the first webs he nocked an arrow, every sense on high alert.

There was no sound, only the soft rustling of the leaves high above. Tûr's steady steps made no sound on the moss-covered ground.

A light breeze carried a faint smell with it, and it took the elf a moment to identify it.

_Ash._

After directing his horse around a large boulder protruding from the earth like a giant nose he spotted the first burned trees.

Where bark and wood had not burned to dust they were blackened and dead, instilling a dark sense of foreboding in Thranduil's heart.

Tûr shook his head nervously and stood, refusing to take one more step. Frowning Thranduil dismounted. His feet stirred up little clouds of ashes when he landed on the soft ground.

Putting the arrow back into his quiver the elf took his horse by the reigns and led it forward. Tûr refused to move at first but eventually gave in and followed Thranduil's lead.

The further they went the more fallen trees they saw. Some looked as if they had been toppled by storm while others were downright split from crown to root. And everything had been singed by fire.

After a while it became clear to Thranduil that there was no immediate danger to fear for whatever had destroyed this part of the forest probably had not stopped to spare a few spiders and their nests.

Once again he climbed on Tûr's back and urged him forward. This time the horse obeyed.

For a few hours they passed slowly through what was left of the woods, the trees still standing declining in frequency with every mile they covered.

The sun shone brightly through the newly thinned canopy and painted merry pictures on the ground which was covered by a fine grey layer of ashes in some places.

When Thranduil finally reached the foothills of the Mountains of Greenwood a few hours past midday, he brought Tûr to a halt and looked around with wide eyes.

Within half a mile, there was no tree to be found. No bushes, flowers, not even the tiniest blade of grass. The whole area looked as if it had been drained of colour and nothing was left of the woods that had once bustled with life.

* * *

He left his horse and began to ascend. The slope stretching in front of Thranduil had been covered with flowers and grass once, but now it was bare stone and ashes, a stark contrast to the mountains still green on either side of it.

His feet were light as he quickly made his way upwards without a sound.

As he rose above tree height the stench of fire and burned flesh grew more intense.

He carefully approached an opening that seemed to lead deeper into the mountain.

The rocky edges around it were partially abraded and smeared with ashes, deep scratches surrounded the mouth of the cave.

The stone walls of the adjoining tunnel seemed to have molten in the fury of the fire unleashed on them for there were no rough edges, only smooth, slightly uneven granite.

Thranduil strained his ears but could catch no sound. Drawing one of his swords, he gripped the hilt tightly while entering the cave, ever so careful as to not make any noise.

He crept down the tunnel, grateful his elvensight allowed him to see even in the dark. After a few minutes he picked up a light sound that grew in loudness the further he advanced. It sounded almost like huge bellows.

The elf hesitated for a moment before slowly turning the last corner.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

Right in front of him, humongous body curled up tightly, lay a dragon, its icy blue gaze focused on him.

Thranduil froze.

* * *

_Hello and thank you for showing interest in this story!_  
_If you are wondering where this "Greenwood Forest" is located, please remember that it has not always been called Mirkwood._

_Before the rise of the necromancer during the Third Age it was known to all as **Greenwood the** **Great.**_

_And since this story takes part near the end of the second age, it only makes sense to revert to the original name of the forest :)_


	2. Chapter 2

The serpent was watching, observing. As was he.

It did not move.

Neither did Thranduil.

The only thing he could do when faced with the dragon was stare at it, utterly shocked by its mere presence.

It was not supposed to be here, midst the elves' realm, but high up in the north where some dragon nests were known to exist.

It should be up there along with its kind, breeding and feeding or maybe invading a dwarves' kingdom to occupy their riches.

Yet it lay here in front of him, watching his every move and not once averting its cool gaze.

Still unable to overcome his shock, Thranduil started to ask questions, seeking answers but coming up empty-handed.

Why was it here? What were its motives?

There were no treasures to be found in Greenwood, much less in this cave the dragon seemed to have created itself.

Thranduil shivered at the mere thought of the power necessary to be able to alter nature to this extent.

He did not know what to do. Under the steady gaze of the dragon he did not dare move, not even breathe.

His pulse was beating fast, the blood rushed through his veins singing songs of fear and excitement.

When several minutes had passed and the serpent had yet to move Thranduil took a careful step back. The dragon blinked.

He took another step, to which the animal bared its teeth slightly at him.

A deep growl emitting from its throat was all it took for the elf to spin on his heel and sprint down the tunnel, hoping he would not be followed.

He needn't have worried for the dragon seemingly had no interest in him other than chasing him away from its lair.

Reaching the foot of the mountain, Thranduil came to halt next to Tûr and stood to take a deep breath and regain his composure.

Every muscle in his body quivered with adrenaline, his calm only reappeared when he mounted his horse and turned its head homewards.

Giving the stallion free reign, he urged him forward in the sudden desire to escape the burned woods. He had to bring word to his father immediately.

* * *

"A dragon you say?" Oropher stared at his son in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"I am, father."

The king slowly sunk on a chair in front of the fire, cradling his chin in his hand.

"A dragon in Greenwood," he mused, eyes half lidded.

A short silence settled upon them until suddenly Oropher focused his gaze on his son.

"Its demeanour, what was it like?"

Thranduil hesitated before answering.

"It did not appear hostile to me, merely wary. It did not try to attack me."

"Would you think it sane?"

Taken by surprise, he pondered over this question for a moment before giving his answer.

"I do not know how to judge the sanity of a dragon. However, it seemed to be intelligent. In a cold and cruel way but intelligent nonetheless."

He shivered when he remembered the dragon's blue eyes.

The Elvenking slowly nodded to himself, considering this piece of information. "So it can be reasoned with."

"Father, surely you do not seek to negotiate with a dragon?"

"What other option is there? It cannot remain here for the danger it poses is far too great."

"But there is nothing we can offer! How can you be so sure it will respect your wishes?"

Meeting the eyes of his clearly upset son with a steady gaze, Oropher answered, "I can not be sure. The dragon might as well lash out at us if we were to pester it and destroy the entire kingdom."

"So let's just fight it," Thranduil offered, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "Why risk the lives of our people if we could just end it?"

"Because there is still a chance it might cooperate. Should the dragon decide to turn against us we will have to fight either way. Perhaps we can solve this matter peacefully."

When his son looked at him in disbelief, Oropher smiled sadly.

"Thranduil," he murmured, rising from his chair and putting his hands on the younger elf's shoulders. "You have seen dragons before. You have lived through the battle with Morgoth's creatures and although you have been young at that time I am sure you remember them.

"The death and destruction they trail in their wake seems to be a part of their nature. Their fiery breath, able to set on fire entire forests and light the darkness of the night."

He looked at his son sadly before stepping back.

"No, _ion nîn_. If there is so much as a chance the dragon will leave our realm peacefully we have to embrace it. I will send a mediator first thing in the morning. Whom would you suggest?"

Thranduil thought for a moment before he straightened and met his father's eyes evenly.

"Send me, your majesty."

His voice did not waver when he interrupted his father who was about to answer.

"I know where the dragon's lair is located for I have been there. The abomination has already seen me once and refrained from ending me, it may do so a second time. Should you send other elves it might feel threatened.

"I do not doubt it remembers me. Therefore I am much more likely to survive than any other ellon."

The pained look Oropher gave him was answer enough.

* * *

When Thranduil climbed the mountain for the second time three days later he did not bother to hide his presence. He wanted the dragon to know he was coming, that he did not pose a threat.

He entered the cave and strode down the tunnel, every sense on high alert. His nerves felt as if they would catch fire every moment, his whole body was prickling from fear and anticipation.

He carefully turned the last corner and took a few tentative steps into the cave before he halted all of a sudden, looking around searchingly.

It was empty.

Had the dragon left? And if so, where had it gone?

A sudden feeling of fear washed over him at the thought of the animal ravaging the forest.

He did not have time to worry. A gentle breeze of hot air swept over his shoulders and neck in a velvety caress, causing his long hair to sway lightly. It made his flesh crawl.

Whole body tensed up, Thranduil turned rigidly and was faced with two sets of teeth, each fang almost as long as his forearm.

The dragon growled softly and the elf closed his eyes before taking a deep breath, steeling himself.

"_Mae govannen, amlug uanui._ I have come to speak to you."

The serpent lay its giant head onto the ground to bring their eyes on the same level. Thranduil risked a quick glance upwards.

The dragon clung to the ceiling and walls of the cave, barely visible in the darkness. Its body was pressed against the stone in soft twists and only now he understood just how huge it really was.

When it spoke its deep voice was soft and smooth. It sounded utterly alluring to Thranduil and he was reminded of the hypnotic powers many dragons were said to possess.

"You smell... Pleasant."

In slow, fluid motions it climbed down the walls and started circling the elf who did not dare move.

"You are _**voth ahkrin**_, very brave, to come here, _**malfahliil**_. You are armed, _**voth zahkriiarkronaaz**_, yet you seek to talk rather than to fight. _**Zuhon**_, little elf, I am listening."

Thranduil was confused at the foreign words the dragon spoke in the tongue of its kin. Was it threatening him? He was not sure.

"I have come to you on behalf of my people, for they fear the greatness of your tremendous presence."

The dragon huffed.

"You call me _amlug uanui_, a monstrous dragon. You speak of my presence as tremendous, _**faasofan**_, but there is no proof to your words."

It regarded him coldly before turning away and retreating to its original spot at the ceiling.

"It seems as if we have to refine your colloquial properties, little elf."

Thranduil bowed his head, wrecking his brain for where he had misstepped.

"As you wish, oh horrible dragon."

It hissed and he did not know whether it was aggravated or pleased.

"Take a seat, _**malfahliil**_. As long as you do not insult me and keep your tongue in check you shall be welcomed here."

Still confused, the elf bowed lightly. When he spotted nothing that could serve as a seat he simply kneeled down.

"I am grateful for your hospitality."

A low, rumbling sound filled the cave, causing the stone walls and floor to vibrate lightly. It took Thranduil a moment to realize the dragon was chuckling.

"Oh, do not mistake it for courtesy. It was an order." The gaze of its icy blue eyes bore into his and caused his heart to skip a beat. Suddenly he realized the danger he was in. Should he fail to please the dragon his existence would be ended in a mere second.

"You are at my mercy, _**malfahliil**_. If I do not find your presence enjoyable the world will be short of one more elf. So, go on. Humour me."

Thranduil hesitated. "I fear I do not know how to please a dragon", he finally confessed. When the animal growled, he quickly added, "But I am willing to learn, should you decide to share your wisdom with me."

"You are a _**volaansemindoklost**_, a quick learner. It would be a shame to end your presence so soon."

"Your advice?"

"Watch your words."

At first he thought he thought he was being reprimanded, but when the dragon continued to stare at him expectantly he realized it had been an answer to his question.

He bent his head. "I will, _amlug 'ortheb_."

The serpent hissed. "Do not offend me, _**boziikfahliil**_. I told you to watch your tongue, _**nuz him dein komeytvokulsekinz kodaarwuth**_, yet you continue to insult me in this way."

Thranduil flinched when her voice rose in volume.

"I beg your pardon, I did not know my words would not be to your liking."

A low growl was his answer. "_**Aaz ofan**_, pardon granted. For now."

The elf released a breath he had not realized he had been holding.

"May I ask," he asked hesitantly. "What it was that upset you so greatly?"

The dragon shot him a blazing look. "The choice of words you are addressing me with. I do not like any of them."

"I always assumed your people prided themselves on chaos and destruction," he murmured surprised.

"_**Geh**_, my brothers do."

He frowned. "Why don't you?"

Once again the animal descended from its position on the wall and started circling him, growling low.

"_**Pahzeymah kos vothsuleyk,**_ my brothers are powerful. Their bodies are full of vigour and might. When they spread their _**vingge**_, their wings, they keep the sunlight from reaching the earth. Their breath brings fire and death upon the world. They are raw, pure and brutal strength, whereas my _**briinah**_, my sisters, like to think of themselves as more... refined."

Mesmerised by the dragon's smooth movements it took Thranduil a moment to process those words. Its body was of a terrible beauty, from ivory teeth and icy blue eyes down to the spiked end of its long, slender tail trailing behind it like a giant whip.

He could see the strong muscles bulging beneath its scales with every step it took.

He was so absorbed that he could not stifle the surprised gasp that escaped his throat when realisation hit him.

"You are female!" he exclaimed surprised.

"I am," the dragon growled and swung her head around to face him directly. "Which you are not, obviously, otherwise you would have noticed."

Thranduil tried not to take offence in her comment but failed miserably. "There are great differences between male and female elves. You can tell them apart easily."

She huffed and turned away. "I would not have noticed." Before his anger could take root, she lashed her tail at him in a lazy gesture which he only narrowly avoided. His heart beating fast he stared at her with wide eyes, his throat suddenly very dry.

The dragon lowered herself to the ground, her huge body circling the cave almost entirely. Thranduil could not help but notice the tip of her tail whipping back and forth in front of the tunnel entrance, effectively blocking his way out. He was trapped.

"Are you scared, _**malfahliil**_?" she asked, her smooth voice causing a shiver to run down his spine.

After a moment of silence, he finally admitted in a hushed voice, "Yes. Very much so."

He did not deem it wise to lie to a dragon.

"Good," she purred, fixing her unsettling eyes on him. "It would be foolish of you not to be.

"Now, tell me, _**fahliil**_, who are you? There has to be a name I can call you by."

Settling himself on the cold ground once again, Thranduil responded, "Why would you want to know my name? I will most likely end up as your meal."

The dragon blinked once. "Aye, most likely. But until then you will speak to me, which is the reason you came here in the first place."

She seemed to mull over her next words before adding, "Besides, I am still satisfied with the spiders I did encounter here upon my arrival. I hope your people did not hold them too dear?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Truth be told, you have done us a favour."

She clicked her teeth. "Well then, one favour for another. Tell me about yourself, little elfling. I think it is about time for you to introduce yourself properly."

He looked at her thoughtfully and finally inclined his head, crossing his legs to sit in a more comfortable position.

"Very well. I shall pay back my peoples' debt."

And thus, Thranduil began his tale.

* * *

_So, finally we get to know the dragon a little bit better :)_

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I did. Working with all those different languages is so much fun!_

_As always, the italic words are Sindarin (which I hope is correct. Please inform me if I have made any mistakes) whereas the __**bold ones**__ are in the tongue of the dragons. I am basing it on the dragons' language from the video game_ **Skyrim**_ (originally produced by Bethesda). If you want to look up any of the words, just google __**dragon language **__and click the first link. Everything I have used so far and will use in the future is listed there._

_However, I fear it will prove difficult to trace the original words, for the dragons combine more words into one. _

_For example, when she says __**komeytvokulsekinz **__it is a combination of the words __**komeyt (speak)**__, __**vokul (evil)**__, __**se (of) **__and __**kinz (**__which originally means__** "I" **__but I translated it with __**me **__to fit in), so together they mean __**speak evil of me**__ which is supposed to mean __**insult me**__._

_Another example is **voth**__**suleyk, **__here I used the words __**voth (with) **__and __**suleyk (power). **__It is supposed to mean __**powerful**__._

_Most of the words, however, will become clear if you read on, for the dragon will repeat most of the longer sentences spoken in her language in common tongue, so the non-dragons (speak humans, elves, dwarfes and readers of this story) will be able to understand her._

_Thank you for the reviews, followers and favourites I received on the first chapter. It made me really happy._

_If you want me to start a little dictionary at the end of every chapter so you can look up the dragon language and Sindarin used you can just tell me. But as I said, you should be able to understand it within the context :)_


	3. Chapter 3

"I am Thranduil," he began, wondering if he should mention his father was the king but in the end deciding against it. "I was born before the first age and-"

"Did you fight in the War of Wrath?" the dragon interrupted curiously. Thranduil struggled for words, taken by surprise, but soon shook his head.

"No. Back then, I was ordered to stay behind with the Elves too young to go to war and watch over them. Truth be told, I am grateful for it. My father once told me it was no battle but a slaughter. A sea of limbs and dead bodies..." he trailed of, struck dumb by the mere thought of it.

She chuckled. "Yes, that's something my _**zeymah**_ would do. My _**monah**_, my mother, used to tell me about the old ones and their greatness."

"There is no greatness in killing thousands of innocent beings," Thranduil spoke, his voice cold. "The wickedness of your kin has ended the lives of many."

The dragon growled, eyes blazing. The furious swishing of her tail made him regret his words almost instantly. "Careful now, **_malfahliil_**, it is dangerous ground you are treading. You speak of the wickedness of my kind, yet you know nothing. Do you care for the insects crushed beneath your feet as you walk the earth?"

"You cannot compare Elves with insects."

"Can't I? Where is the difference? Humans, Elves, even Dwarves, Vedjun would not have noticed had he stepped on one or possibly hundreds of them, just as you don't notice the death of an ant brought upon it by your sole."

"You would know if you were to step on me, be it by accident or ill intent," Thranduil promised. He did not like the change in their conversation.

"Aye," the dragon growled. "But then again, I am not Vedjun. I may not be the smallest dragon to walk the earth, but at the same time I am far from the size of my brothers. Yet Vedjun surpassed them easily in greatness and power."

The elf frowned. "Who is this Vedjun you speak of?"

At this, the serpent haughtily rose her head. "The Black King is the first thing a little hatchling hears about after breaking its shell. It is the tale all mothers tell their drakelings before they can even lift their heads. It is a story of power and held dear by my people.

"Vedjun was the embodiment of might. Every male wishes to be like him while there is not one female who would not seek him out as her mate. Vedjun was the greatest being to ever have ruled the sky and in the War of Wrath he took many a life before Eärendil and his eagles ended him."

She seemed to think for a moment before adding, "You may know him as_ Ancalagon_ the Black."

Thranduil shivered with fear and repulsion. "How can you speak so highly of him? His actions have brought upon us nothing but fear and death." He was unable to keep the hostility from his voice.

The dragon threw him a warning look. "I do not like your tone, little Elfling. Vedjun was the one to lead my people into battle and he has slaughtered more enemies than anyone could have counted. We dragons pride ourselves on our ancestors. Do not speak ill of them."

He scowled. "There is nothing honourable in killing innocents. How can you possibly look up to..." He trailed of, searching for a suitable word and in the end settling for the most obvious one. "To that monster?"

"Aye, a monster he was," she exclaimed proudly, sending little puffs of smoke from her nostrils. "The most horrible of all dragons."

Thranduil looked at her in disbelief. "You cannot mean this."

Bringing her head down to face him, the dragon growled, "Do not doubt the sincerity of my words, **_malfahliil_**, for it would do you no good. Now, tell me more about yourself. Whom do you hail from, **_volaanvothmin_**?"

In a desperate attempt to evade her question, Thranduil asked back, "What does this mean?"

She rested her head on her paws lazily. "_**Volaanvothmin**_?"

He nodded.

"It means you are quick to judge."

"Why?" He felt insulted and only barely managed to keep his voice from rising. "I do not judge you."

The dragon huffed angrily. "You judge my people. The only thing you speak of is the terror we have brought to your race, but you have yet to see things from a dragon's position. We do care neither for your rise nor your downfall because you do not matter. You are insignificant to us."

"I do not understand. How can you show so little interest in the lives of others?" Thranduil asked, shaking his head.

She blinked. "It is not out of spite – at least most of the time. But if I were to weep every single time an Elf or Human or Dwarf died because I have sneezed into the wrong direction my mind would break. We do not care for you because you are so small and fragile. You cannot keep up with us."

He stood silent for the longest time, mulling over her words. When he made no attempt to speak again, the dragon let out a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Tell me something, **_malfahliil_**."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"I do not know. Think of something."

After a while, Thranduil rose his voice. "May I ask you a question?"

She hummed low in her throat. "You may, little one. Although it depends on the question whether you will receive an answer."

He nodded. "You could have killed me long ago, yet have refrained from doing so. Why?"

The dragon cracked one blue eye open. "What good would it do?"

"Would there be any harm?" he retorted.

She growled. "Very well. You are still alive, little Elf, because this is the first decent conversation I have had in a long while. Rest assured, should your presence cease to please me you would not be here."

He hesitated, intwining his fingers in a nervous gesture. "And how would I know if that was the case?"

"Oh, trust me, little one. You _will_ know."

* * *

"When was the last time you spoke to any other being before me?" Thranduil asked curiously.

With a little frown he stretched out his legs in front of him. They were cramped and stiff from sitting on the hard ground for so long, so it was a welcome relief when he allowed himself to relax a little bit, waiting for her answer.

"Hmm, perhaps a decade?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"I have lost track of time so I fear I am unable to give you an exact answer."

"It is fine," he murmured, shaking his head. "I do not mind."

Then, after a while, he continued, "Do you ever get lonely?"

The serpent rose her massive shoulders, the dragon equivalent of a shrug Thranduil assumed.

"I don't. Dragons are solitary, **_malfahliil_**. They only gather to mate and raise their young ones."

He processed this new piece of information while thinking over what to say next. So far the dragon seemed to be content with the course of their conversation but he didn't know what would happen should he stumble over a sensitive topic by accident.

For a moment he wanted to ask her about her family, if she was mated and possibly even had children but he managed to keep his tongue in check. His people considered it rude to breach topics this intimate at such early time in an acquaintance and he was sure it was no different with dragons. The serpent in front of him would probably have his hide if he so much as peeped into the wrong direction.

The silence streched on and apparently the dragon's patience seemed to run thin. Turning her head she brought it near him, her long neck arching gracefully.

"You are awfully quiet, little one," she stated in an almost singing voice. Thranduil could hear the faint mockery in her tone. She growled softly and drew nearer, until everything he had to do was lean forward and he would be able to touch his forehead to her scaly muzzle.

He stared at her ivory teeth when she drew her lips back slightly. A puff of smoke from her nostrils sent him into a fit of coughing and he doubled over at the scratching feeling in his throat.

"Maybe you are boring after all," the dragon mused thoughtfully and drew back, only to bring her head around him. She encircled him with her long neck, jaw scraping over the stone floor, until one of her big blue eyes came up next to him.

Thranduil met her gaze, fighting the urge to look away. Their silent contest streched on while the elf struggled to keep his emotions under control. His muscles hummed with suppressed tension and every now and then a soft tremor would run through his body. He knew he was trapped.

He could see his own reflection in the lone eye facing him and focused on it in an attempt to lessen the impact of her steely gaze.

The dragon blinked.

"The question is," she drawled, clicking her teeth softly. Thranduil flinched at the sound. "Should I eat you now or give you one last chance?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I would be most grateful if you were to choose the latter."

"And why would I do that?"

He did not know what to say to that, so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Does every dragon have eyes as beautiful as yours?"

She blinked, seemingly surprised. "You may be boring," she growled and slowly drew back her head. Resting it back onto her paws, she continued, "But it seems you are clever. I shall let you live. For now."

Thranduil exhaled slowly, the tension seeping out of his body and leaving him with a feeling of weakness. Suddenly, his limbs felt very heavy.

The dragon hummed softly. "Can you sing, **_malfahliil_**?"

He hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

"Well, yes", he finally admitted. "At least by the standards of my own people. But..."

"But what?" she inquired, watching him curiously.

"But I do not know if it is enough to please a dragon," he said quietly.

"Why not? I have heard many a song over the course of my life and I remember every single one. I find them to sound most pleasant if sung by your kind."

Thranduil looked at her surprised. "You have known other Elves?"

She laughed, a dark, rumbling sound that caused him to shiver. "I am old, little one, although I have to admit your age is superior to mine. I have met humans and Elves alike."

He hesitated before asking the next question. "If I may be so bold, how old are you, exactly?"

"I have lost count of my years, so there is no definite answer to your question. But I can tell you I have hatched roughly seven centuries from now."

So he was over five thousand years older than her.

"But that does not mean you are any wiser," she growled and Thranduil realised he had spoken his thoughts aloud. "Indeed, most of the Elves I have known have been foolish, too proud to endure. Their stubbornness and sense of superiority makes them rash in their decisions. It is a trait your people seem to share."

"I do not make 'rash decisions'," he said, holding his head high. "My people are known to possess both wisdom and foresight."

The dragon closed her eyes, her voice lacking any interest when she rumbled, "Really. Then I am to assume the Elves I have gotten to pick from between my teeth on more than one occasion were merely your adventurous youngsters?"

Thranduil froze and looked at her. "You have killed Elves," he stated, his voice frigid. He had assumed so, based on her behaviour and their conversation, but it was another thing to hear it with his own ears.

"Of course," she drawled nonchalantly. "Many have tried to slay me. And not only young Elves. Older ones, with more wisdom and foresight, as you call it, have come for me."

Maybe his father had been right after all. His near-death experience still fresh in mind, the mere thought of taking on a dragon suddenly appeared utterly foolish to him.

"But why would you want to kill them?" he asked incredulously. "You could have merely sent them away."

"They would not have listened."

"They would have reasoned with you," he stated, ever so careful as to keep the anger from his voice. This time, he did succeed.

The dragon hissed at him and he flinched back. "You do not understand, Elf. You are so absorbed in your own thoughts you fail to see things from my position."

Rising to her feet, she growled low in her throat and once again started circling him. "They come to my lair, they rouse me from my slumber."

Thranduil could tell she was furious. The Elf rose from his seated position, ever so careful as to not direct her anger at him. He had no desire to face death for a second time.

Her voice grew in volume as she went on and it was difficult for Thranduil to stay where he was. His whole body screamed at him to run but he knew better. Were he to take so much as a step forward it would be the end of him.

"They point their weapons at me and expect me to go down without a fight."

Her tail smashed into the side of the cave, causing the ground to quake. Little pieces of rock fell from the ceiling. An aggravated roar almost caused him to cover his ears and she threw back her head, breathing a stream of burning hot fire at the ceiling. He felt the temperature around him rise.

"Me, a dragon!"

Thranduil flinched when she swung her head to face him. The only thing he could do was to stare into her blazing eyes, captivated.

"What do you have to say to this?" she hissed, baring her teeth at him.

He gulped, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. He knew it would be of no use against the dragon but the cool leather beneath his fingers served to calm him a little.

"I -" He took a breath to reign in his fluttering nerves. "I am sure they had their reasons."

"So they did. And so did I for killing them." She pulled back and growled.

He shivered at the coldness in her voice. She held his gaze for a long time, but when Thranduil finally found the courage to take a step forward and say something, she huffed and turned away. As he watched her retreat to her original place at the ceiling he had a feeling she was distancing herself from him and her next words confirmed his thoughts.

"Go now. I do not enjoy your presence anymore."

He watched her, searching for any sign she would attack him if he turned away. There were none. She clung to the stonewall like a giant bat and held perfectly still, her blue eyes focused on him.

"I will see you leave, little Elf" she rumbled. When he took a cautios step forward her gaze seemed to intensify. Another step. A sharp hiss was everything it took to send him running.

Sprinting through the cave and into the tunnel, he fled.

* * *

Leaning against the rocks near the entrance he breathed in the fresh air, not quite believing what had happened.

Once again, he had managed to escape from a dragon's lair without so much as a singed hair. He seemed to be quite fortunate.


	4. Chapter 4

He set up camp at the foot of the mountain. After taking of Tûr's headgear and saddle he allowed the horse to run free. Having been trained his entire life the stallion would not stray too far despite feeling the dragon's presence nearby. Sniffing the air, Tûr swished his tail nervously before retreating to the far end of the clearing. Resting his back against the saddle Thranduil searched his bags for food. The encounter with the dragon had left him hungry and so he found himself devouring more lembas and dried fruit than usually. The sun was about to set, already tinting the sky a faint hue of orange.

Once he finished his meal the Elf set about sharpening his swords. The slow, rhythmic motions did a lot to help him calm his thoughts and he finally was able to approach today's events with a level head.

Looking back, Thranduil decided he had done better than he had expected. Originally, he was sure the dragon would chase him from her lair with fire and brimstone. But instead he had been able to talk to her and gather information. He halted his thoughts for a moment, finally processing how fortunate he was to be alive. The serpent could have ended him easily. In her enraged state she could have crushed him and probably would not have noticed. The Elf shivered when he remembered her sudden wrath and felt his heart beat faster. He had been extremely lucky she had not decided to end their little chat with a blazing inferno.

For a moment he considered going back and abandoning this whole quest. He could report to his father that the dragon could not be reasoned with or ask for someone else to be sent. After all, he was a prince and denying an errand – admittedly, a very dangerous one – lay well within his possibilities. Thranduil did not wish to enter that cave again.

But then he thought of the duties that came with his royal blood. The duty to protect his people at all costs, to ensure their safety and – if necessary – to even sacrifice his own life in order to keep them safe.

A little sigh escaped him and he abandoned those treacherous thoughts. Squaring his shoulders with new determination, he tried to calm down his nervously beating heart. He would enter the serpent's lair again tomorrow.

Admittedly, he was a confused as to the reason he was still alive. The dragon seemed to enjoy conversation to a certain level, and while Thranduil was not entirely sure he guessed it was because she felt somewhat lonely. After all, she had been alone for over ten years.

Yet he doubted that he could be the one to save her from her loneliness. She had told him dragons were solitary so they probably had no problems with being on their own but still – did she miss talking to others?

Remembering the serpent's words, he tried to approach things differently and see them from her position. If he was in her place, what would he do?

Obviously she had no treasure to watch over, otherwise she would not be here. Thranduil was puzzled. In every story he head read over the course of his life, in every song and tale he had heard, dragons were always depicted as greedy, obsessed with their ill-gotten acclaimed riches. Why didn't she have a hoard?

It meant she was free to roam the lands as she pleased. He thought back on her words. She had told him she had slept most of the last decade so she obviously was not one to actively seek out adventures. Did that mean she was waiting for things to happen to her? Or did she really desire to be left alone, isolated from the rest of the world? And if so, why had she spared him?

_"So, go on. Humour me."_

Was he a welcome change in her solitude or did she act on some ulterior moment he knew nothing about?

Thranduil stopped his movements. The silence that descended after the grindstone stopped scraping over the now razor sharp blade was only broken by the soft sound of Tûr's feet scuffling over the ash covered ground and made his thoughts ring loud inside his head. It was of no use. He would never understand the dragon. One question led to another, it was like a never-ending circle and he felt trapped within his own mind.

He did not even know if she had told him the truth or tried to deceive him somehow. If she had spoken the truth, why had she provided this information so easily? And if she had lied, why had she done so? Was she playing tricks on his mind, maybe to lure him into a feeling of safety before delivering the final blow? He did not trust her. He _could_ not trust her because he was unable to discern the way her mind worked.

A low sigh escaped Thranduil. At least something had become clear to him: he would have to get to know her better if he wanted to understand her. If he was even able to do so. Somehow, he doubted he would ever be able to comprehend her thoughts.

Forcing himself to focus on sharpening his swords, he picked up his work once more but could not keep his thoughts from straying once again, an indication on just how greatly the serpent invading the Greenwood realm troubled him.

His father had sent him to negotiate with the dragon, and he would leave no sooner than he had fulfilled his duty. In order to do so he probably would have to get close to the serpent and try to gather more information about her. Her thoughts, her motives, anything that could help him yield an advantage.

He also would have to find out where her interests lay so they could bargain with her. There was the possibility of her not being interested in treasure although Thranduil somewhat doubted it. She was a dragon, after all.

As he thought about it, he realised this quest would probably take him several weeks. He would have to return home at some point to stock up his provisions and inform his father of what he had gathered so far. He hoped he would be able to gather anything at all.

So far, complimenting her beauty seemed to work well for it had saved his life today.

He halted in his movements, thinking, until in the end he jumped up in frustration and sheathed his swords more vehemently than necessary. His mind reeled at the realisation he really did not know much more about the dragon and it bothered him to no end.

Grinding his teeth together, he clenched his fists. He would gain the upper hand over her. He had to.

Hours later, when he was already wrapped in his blankets and gazing at the stars above him, he realised he did not even know her name.

* * *

Unsure whether to proceed or not, Thranduil stood in front of the cave entrance. It was past morning, yet midday still way many hours away, and he did not know how long dragons usually slept. If he were to wake her from slumber he was certain he would not like the outcome.

Taking a deep breath he entered the tunnel. If the dragon was not awake he would simply leave and return later as the day proceeded. Despite his newly found courage and determination of taking on the dragon, the further he advanced the lighter his footfall became until he was all but creeping over the stone floor. Rounding the last corner carefully he took a few tentative steps into the cave and was immediately alerted by a rustling sound behind him.

Turning around, he saw the dragon descend from its spot at the ceiling, diving down in a graceful motion to circle him. He clenched his teeth, realising he was once again trapped.

"And so you return once again, _**malfahliil**_," the serpent breathed, her blue eyes gazing at him intently. "Even if my words said your presence was of no use to me. Have you thought of a way to amuse me or shall I eat you instead?" Thranduil felt as if he was being scrutinised and saw his thoughts confirmed when she growled, "You left your weapons." She sounded somewhat pleased.

Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, he bowed low at the waist before meeting her cool gaze evenly. "I did. They would be of no use against your prowess."

The dragon hummed. "I appreciate your forethought, little one. I trust you have slept well?" He could hear the mockery in her voice but merely inclined his head.

"Better than expected."

"But worse than you had wished?" she chuckled and curled up into a massive ball in front of the entrance, blocking it effectively.

He hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes. My rest would have been more restorative had I been able to sleep in a cave such as yours, sheltered from wind and cold."

Remembering the way flattery seemed to please her, he looked around and added, "Your lair is of a strange beauty."

The dragon blinked, not moving otherwise. "It passes," she rumbled dismissive but he could see something within her gaze soften. Obviously he was faring well so far. "Sit down, little Elfling. I would not wish to have my guest standing for too long to be comfortable." Once again, he detected a mocking tone and took it as a good sign.

Once seated, Thranduil touched his hand lightly to the cool stone beneath him. "Most curious," he muttered, trailing his fingers over the smooth surface. "How did you even create this cave? I imagine it must have been a straining task indeed."

The dragon huffed and rose her head, shooting him an almost arrogant look. "With blazing fire, hot enough to melt rock." she stated proudly. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "It has not really proven much of an effort. After all, I am a dragon."

"I admire your strength," Thranduil confessed with a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Although I find it hard to believe you can erode a mountain without the least bit of endeavour. Please forgive me for doubting your words."

In the blink of an eye, the serpent's head was before him, teeth bared. He flinched back but managed to keep from ducking away. Trying desperately to calm his fluttering nerves, he stared at her ivory fangs. One wrong word and they would be his death..

"You are welcome to state your opinion, little one", she hissed, voice dripping with malice. "If you desire to end up as my meal, please go on. But before I end you we shall continue this little game of ... whatever it is you are trying to do."

Thranduil took great care in keeping his face rid of any suspicious emotion, instead feigning surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked. His heart was beating fast and his mind was buzzing. How did she know? Did she even know? And if so, why had she been able to see through him so easily?

"Do not think I am stupid, little Elfling," the dragon half growled, half chuckled. "When you left yesterday you were all but glad to escape my presence. You were little more than a frightened rabbit, unable to say anything worth listening to, yet today you return, calm and collected, and try to deceive me with compliments and pretty words." She looked at him for a moment, her gaze expressionless, before adding, "I don't know what you are up to, little one, but I will let you live. I enjoy this game you are playing and I will disclose your motives in time, rest assured of that. Until then, feel free to talk. Though you might want to keep from talking too freely..." She trailed off.

Thranduil shivered at the warning hidden behind her words and inclined his head.

Inwardly he quickly assessed his situation. The dragon knew he was up to something, and if her words were anything to go by the only thing that kept her from lashing out at him was that she did not know his motives. Obviously, she thought of him as a puzzle to solve and as long as he remained a mystery to her he was relatively safe.

Feeling a little more daring at this realisation, Thranduil nodded to show he understood and then tried to catch her of guard by a sudden change of topic.

"A creature as fair as you must have a name equally pleasant. How do your admirers call you?"

The dragon eyed him warily. As he watched her sway her head back and forth gently he feared he had gone too far and barely managed to stifle the sigh of relief that threatened to escape when she finally chose to answer.

"I am Vahrii."

Thranduil was surprised. That name was actually rather nice. He had expected it to be somewhat darker, rougher.

"It sounds beautiful. Does it mean anything?"

She made a sound close to snorting. "Of course it does! It is a combination of the words Vah and Rii, both of which mean spring and essence in the tongue of my kin. And, to answer your next question, little one..." She threw him a sharp look and he averted his eyes, feeling caught. It was indeed what he was going to ask next.

"My mother chose them because I was the only drakeling of my year to hatch in spring."

"A rather curious way of name-giving," he mused.

At this, Vahrii huffed. "Aye, but what am I to do?"

Thranduil shrugged. "There is no need to do anything. Vahrii suits you."

"How so?" He could tell she was interested. Her voice sounded less hostile and more attentive. Resting her head on the floor right in front of him, she watched him curiously.

"Your eyes," he explained, meeting her gaze. "They have the colour of the sky after a strong winter, when the nights are still dark and the days crisp but everything is ready to bloom once again."

She blinked and drew back her head. "You certainly have a way with words, little Elfling."

Thranduil inclined his head in a silent gesture of acceptance.

"It is an honour to finally know your name, Vahrii."

"No, no," she sighed. "It is the wrong pronunciation. You have to roll the 'R' more intensive, little one. Your pretty Elvish language is too soft for the tongue of my kin."

He looked at her confused, searching for any signs of anger. "I apologise, Lady Vahrii." At this, the dragon hummed softly. "I did not know."

She nodded gracefully. "I would not expect you to. Your people know next to nothing of my kind."

Giving him an appraising look, she added, "You seem eager to learn, _**malfahliil**_. Maybe I will tell you more in time."

The Elf was stunned for a moment but soon he had himself under control once again. "I would feel most honoured," he spoke truthfully. His mind rejoiced at the chance of getting to know the dragon kind better. And maybe on this way he would be able to figure out how she could be persuaded to leave.

With a quiet huff, Vahrii rested her head on her paws and stretched, settling in a more comfortable position. He wondered whether it was an unconscious movement or if it was a part of her plan in trying to deceive him.

"I have neither lungs nor chest, yet I need air," she began and Thranduil looked at her with a furrowed brow. Unbothered by his confusion, the dragon went on. "I am not alive, yet I grow and can even die, I have no mouth and don't drink water."

"I am sorry," he began, searching her gaze. "I am not sure I understand."

Flicking the tip of her tail impatiently, Vahrii breathed a little cloud of smoke. "It is a riddle, _**malfahliil**_. Go ahead and solve it."

Thranduil threw her a disbelieving look, but she appeared to be entirely serious so he gave in, all the while pondering over her motives. Would he gain something if he solved the riddle? Was this a silent challenge or was she merely jesting?

And, more importantly – what would he lose if he didn't succeed?

"I have neither lungs nor chest, yet I need air," he mumbled quietly, eyes fixed on the grey stonewall behind her. His heart was beating fast with fear. He did not know where he was headed and felt as if someone had blindfolded him, ordering him to jump forward. He could land on his feet again or fall down a cliff; there was no way of knowing. "I grow and can even die... Maybe a tree? But no, that would make no sense. Hmm... I am not alive.. No water.."

He would have to trust her on this one, except that he did not want to do so.

Vahrii let out a puff of air, accompanied by a small could of smoke. His eyes absently following its trail upwards, Thranduil wrecked his brain for a solution. It had to be something obvious, something... The last remnants of smoke disappeared. His face void of any expression, the Elf inclined his head. "The solution is fire."

Holding his breath, he waited. When nothing happened, he looked up, half expecting her to lash out at him.

"Very good, little Elf," Vahrii rumbled, closing her eyes. "Now it is your turn."

Thranduil almost laughed at the sudden feeling of relief that overcame him when the tension seeped out of him, leaving him slightly dizzy.

"I am afraid I am not all good when it comes to riddles," he stated while stretching his cramped legs. "But I will try my best."

She hummed. "I expect no less of you."

He thought for a little while before finally deciding. "I'm right behind you, creep on the ground, follow you home, do not make a sound. What am I?"

"That's easy," Vahrii huffed. "The answer is shadow. Is this the best you can do?"

Her intense gaze fixed on his face, she clicked her teeth meaningfully, and emitted a could of smoke. A terrible, scratching noise filled the cave, and it took Thranduil a moment to figure out she was sharpening her claws by dragging them over the stone floor.

He stared at her, his expression blank, highly disconcerted. It took him a great amount of willpower not to fidget at the sight of her razor sharp talons, which she now licked slowly. She almost appeared like a giant cat, although much more dangerous.

Thranduil could not keep himself from staring. Her tongue was long and black, and it looked almost as if it had barbs running down it's sidelines. Everything, from sharp teeth down to the spiked tail, made this dragon a walking weapon, able to bring destruction and death. Thranduil felt new determination rise within his chest. He had to drive this dragon from Greenwood, and he would do so. For the sake of his people.

With newfound resolve, he straightened his back and shook his head. "One more."

"Very well, _**malfahliil**_" she agreed. "But this time, I expect better."

Loosing no time, Thranduil entwined his fingers and, eyes closed, started reciting.

"Made of ten but two we make, when assembled others quake, five apart and we are weak, five together havoc wreak."

For some minutes, it was quiet and the only thing that could be heard was their breath. "Hmm... I do not know this riddle."

Thranduil could not keep the corners from his lips tugging upwards. Should he indeed be able to pose a challenge for the dragon?

Cracking open one blue eye, Vahrii shot him a lazy look, shattering all of his satisfaction within a mere second. "But assuming from the way you hold yourself and your clasped fingers, I guess the answer is 'fists'?"

He nodded obediently, but inwardly the feelings of anger and despair lingering at the back of his head grew stronger. How was he supposed to gain the upper hand if nothing he said or did managed to affect her?"This one was more difficult," she stated. "Although still too easy."

"I am sure you can do better," Thranduil stated in a mocking tone, a response born from his anxious thoughts. She bristled, rising to the challenge.

"Of course I can! Stupid Elfling. Let us see if you can solve this one..." Her tail swished back and forth agitatedly as she watched him, her eyes blazing. He wondered if he had maybe crossed a line he knew nothing about. He clenched his fists nervously.

"If you look, you can't see me. If you see me, you cannot see anything else. I can make you walk if you can't. Sometimes I speak the truth, and sometimes I lie. If I lie, I am nearer the truth. What am I?"

Stifling the sigh of relief that threatened to escape him when she made no move to direct her anger at him, Thranduil rose a slender finger and said, "Give me a moment."

Vahrii chuckled, the sound close to a growl, causing the ground to vibrate softly. Her cold eyes were a stark contrast to the sound of her laughter and made him feel uneasy.

"As long as you wish, little one," she growled, her voice so low he could feel the vibrations run through his bones. She bared her teeth at him in a horrid grin. "I have time."


	5. Chapter 5

As the day wore on Thranduil found himself scouting his memory for every riddle he had ever heard until, in the late afternoon, he succumbed. Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender he laughed, "I give up, Lady Vahrii. I fear I cannot keep up with your extensive knowledge of riddles."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You two-legged fail to see the challenge in them. You live for such a long time yet you are ignorant of the great entertainment they pose. Really, what are you doing with your lives?"

Thranduil shrugged and, referring to one of the customs his people were known for, said, "I guess specialising in arms takes up a lot of years. Every Elf, be it man or woman, seeks to perfect the art of wielding a weapon, possibly even more than one."

Vahrii looked at him intently. "Your kinsmen did never strike me as the warlikely type of people."

"Because we aren't." Thranduil hesitated and in the end decided it would do no harm to tell her a bit more. Picking his words carefully, he explained, "Elves strive for perfection in many ways, weaponry being one of them. It is not because we enjoy the bloodshed but the sight of a sword, for instance, is breathtaking if wielded correctly."

She threw him a disbelieving look. "So you are trying to tell me, **_malfahliil_**, that your people spend years upon years on training because you merely enjoy the sight of it?"

He smiled lightly. "A sight to behold, yes. You have set eyes upon Elves wielding their weapon of choice more than once, Lady Vahrii. Surely you must have noticed the grace of their movements."

She snorted. "Aye, I have set eyes on them, little one, but I failed to appreciate this so called beauty of their movements because, in all honesty, I cannot see anything breathtaking in an arrow or spear aimed for my lungs."

Thranduil chuckled at her dry tone, but soon enough sobered up when Vahrii spoke again. "What are your favoured weapons, little Elfling?" She looked at him expectantly and did not appear hostile in the least. If there were any other motives to her question than mere curiosity she was very good at hiding them. Assessing his situation, Thranduil came up with two options. He could either evade the question and risk angering her, or he could answer and hope it would not prove as a disadvantage in the long run.

"I prefer the lance," Thranduil offered carefully, hoping this would be enough to satisfy her. Of course, it wasn't.

"What about the bow?" she inquired. "I have seen many Elves who were brilliant at archery."

"Most of us are," he replied, feeling uneasy. "Mastering the skill of bow and arrow is usually the first thing an Elf accomplishes. Perfect aim and a steady hand are essential for every kind of weaponry and this has proven to be a good training."

"But you are not one of those who seek out the art of archery," Vahrii stated, not missing the way he presented his answer. Thranduil squirmed under her fierce gaze. He had hoped she would miss it.

A little growl prompted him to incline his head, and a twitching claw had him answer her question that was no question at all. "No, I am not," he answered. When he said no more, she clicked her teeth impatiently.

"So what is your favoured weapon for remote attacks?"

Thranduil looked at her warily, silently gauging his next words. "I'd rather not talk about it, my beautiful lady. I do not like to speak about war and such, and prefer to evade those topics, even when talking to my own people." This was, at least, partially the truth. He did not like to discuss weapons and such but preferred to actually use his gear. In this he was very much a man - rather speak with action than words.

He grew nervous when she stood silent for a long time, her eyes fixed on his face, unreadable. Hoping not to have angered her too much, the Elf forced himself to sit still as his heart was beating painfully fast within his chest at the sudden tension.

Eventually, Vahrii nodded her massive head. "You are not as great a fool I originally took you for," she rumbled, an appreciative note to her voice and Thranduil barely managed to stifle a sigh of relief. "It was reckless of you to tell me your true name right away."

He cocked his head at the rebuke, still feeling somewhat dizzy. He never knew how she would react to his words and the constant tension started getting to him. "I did not deem it wise to try and lie to a dragon," he admitted.

"And you were right, little one," she huffed, baring her teeth in something that could have resembled a grin if it weren't for her razor sharp fangs. "Foolish perhaps, but right. As a dragon, I can smell a lie twenty feet into the wind." He did not miss the warning. Eyes half lidded, she regarded him thoughtfully before adding, "I have more difficulties detecting if someone is merely avoiding the truth, which, too, is a kind of lie."

Thranduil shot her a surprised look and for a long time did not know how to respond. In the end, he decided to go for the most obvious question, which she probably expected of him. "I see that you are really powerful, Lady Vahrii, and you are obviously quite skilled at telling truth from lie but this knowledge makes it easier for me to hide things from you. That was if I chose to do so," he added hastily when she brought down her head to face him. "So why are you telling me this?"

Closing her eyes entirely, Vahrii released a deep breath along with a stream of smoke. Thranduil stared at her, unable to avert his eyes. A feeling of fear rose in his chest when silence descended upon them. Did her words mean she would end him now?

"Because I like the challenge, **_malfahliil_**."

* * *

When he found nothing to say to that, she chuckled low in her throat. It sounded close to a growl and the sound made him shiver with unease. "After a decade of utter solitude, I enjoy a good conversation way too much. I try to make it as interesting as possible before we part ways – be it because I eat you or let you go. Don't give me that look, little one, you know I fancy the first option."

Averting his eyes, Thranduil bowed his head lightly. "I would prefer staying alive as long as possible," he silently admitted.

"So would I," the dragon lady rumbled. "You provide very good amusement so far. I should hate it if I were to end you so soon."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he mumbled, eyes still cast downward. The possibility of ending up as between her jaws did nothing to quieten his fluttering nerves.

Still, he was calm enough to act his part. It was not like him to behave all humble or downhearted but he had a feeling it would benefit him where Vahrii was concerned.

"Don't be so gloomy, little Elfling," she chided, flicking her tail at him. It's spiked end only narrowly missed his left check and he flinched. He clenched his fists but otherwise sat perfectly still, keeping his emotions in check. "It is depressing."

"Well, what would you want me to do about it?" Thranduil asked back, forcing his fingers to relax. "You just told me I could very well end up as your meal."

The dragon clicked her teeth. "Aye," she agreed. "But I also said I would prefer not to eat you – at least not right now. Basically, it means you are likely to survive the day."

Her words actually helped to calm him a little bit, even if he did not miss the hidden implication that he could just as well die tomorrow or any other day.

"Only if I continue to amuse you," he stated dryly.

"Yes."

With a dramatic sigh, the Elf inclined his head, succumbing to his fate. "So what can I do to humour you, my fair lady?"

Something in her steely gaze shifted. There was a new light shining in the blue depths of her eyes, one Thranduil could not quite place but was sure it was a good sign. The weight of her unrelenting stare became easier to bare and he found himself relaxing a little bit.

She seemed to think about his words for a moment before voicing her proposal. "You told me of the beauty and grace of an Elf wielding his weapon of choice. Why don't you show me what you can do? I'd very much like to see it with my own eyes."

Thranduil cursed inwardly and thought of a way to deny her request without offending or enraging her, all the while keeping an indifferent expression.

"I am afraid I do not have the necessary weapon with me," he offered after a while. Vahrii hissed and brought her head down to face him, her eyes once again cold and void of any emotion.

"So go and get it," she all but ordered, baring her teeth slightly. He tried to hold her unrelenting stare, but averted his gaze when she growled low in her throat. From the corner of his eyes Thranduil could see the tip of her tail tapping the stone floor at a slow pace and remembered when the spiked end had only narrowly missed his face before. Perhaps it was not the best idea to argue with her.

Watching her intently, the Elf carefully rose from his sitting position, his whole body tense when Vahrii's eyes followed his every move. He bowed low at the waist, his long hair falling over his shoulders and shielding his face from her gaze.

"I would very much like to show you my skills." Her low chuckle told him she had seen straight through his words and knew he was actually reluctant to do so. So she had spoken the truth. Dragon's were able to discern truth from lie with ease.

"However, I fear I am unable to fulfil your request because I left the weapon in question at my home."

She hissed, an unspoken warning for him not to lie. He tensed and added, eyes fixed on the ground, "I never have it with me inside the forest. There isn't enough space to wield a lance properly." Vahrii huffed. "So just go and get a stick out of that forest you hold so dear," she grumbled.

Thranduil hesitated. "I do not think I -" "You have one hour," she cut him off. Straightening up again, he watched her get up and move to one side of the cave, clearing the entrance.

The Elf's eyes followed her movements warily, taking in the way she seemed to move her massive body with ease. There was an elegance in her motions, the way her long body curved with every step she took, just like a snake, that made him unable to avert his gaze. At the sight of strong muscles bulging and bunching beneath her hard scales, Thranduil was once again reminded of whom he was dealing with. He gulped.

He took a tentative step forwards, shivering beneath Vahrii's unrelenting stare. He took a breath to say something, something that would get him out of the predicament he was in, but a loud growl caused him to snap his mouth shut immediately.

The rush of adrenaline that shot through his body when she bared her fangs at him, steam wallowing from her nostrils, had him standing stock-still, unmovingly. He felt his insides clench with anticipation when she narrowed her eyes at him, bringing her head so close he could feel the scorching heat of her breath upon his face.

"One hour," she growled slowly, deliberately, emphasising each word. Her low voice vibrated through the cave, making Thranduil's skin crawl. Although sounding utterly threatening, the words were laced with a strange gentleness. Maybe it was the way they seemed to roll of her tongue, Thranduil was not sure. Maybe his nervous mind had merely made it up.

In any case, he found himself unable to argue with her. There was no room for it. Here she was, a dragon with a head was almost two times his height, towering in front of him and fully expecting him to heed her wishes.

And he would. Because she could end his life at any moment, and because he had to stay alive at any cost.

So he bowed low once again, not meeting her fierce gaze, before turning away and leaving the cave, his mind working feverishly.

She would not strike at him while he was turning his back at her, he was sure of that. Yet he had no doubt she would come after him and end him should he fail to return once the time was up.

She knew he would come back, and he knew it, too.

* * *

With a scowl on his face, Thranduil emerged from the tunnel, the light of the sun shining on his face, a welcome change after the darkness inside the cave. Taking in deep breaths of the fresh air he tried to calm his fluttering nerves. Vahrii...

She was playing him, like a pawn on a board, and he did not like it. Not one bit.

* * *

**So, I know it took a bit long for the chapter to appear but I have been waiting for my beta.**

**Not that I blame her, no, she has helped me a great deal so far and I am truly thankful for her support. **

**Maybe she decided to abandon me ._. *sniffles***

**If any of you guys feel like beta-ing the chapters to come, I'd be very glad. If not - well, I guess you'll have to bear with a few mistakes every now and then :)**

**Anyways, hope you liked the chapter! Let me know what you think.**

**Love,**

**planless**


	6. Chapter 6

_Another chapter, yet unbeta-ed. _  
_If one of you would be willing to act as a proofreader I would be most grateful since my beta seems to have abandoned me._

_Please bear with any mistakes you find - don't hesitate to point them out! :)_

_By the way, thank you all for your reviews! They are very motivating and helpful.  
Big thanks to Zardi for pointing out the brackets (*blush*) and Randiriel the Scribe for advice concerning the title._

* * *

The hour Vahrii had granted him was almost up and Thranduil spent the remaining time seated on a flat rock just outside the cave. It was a warm, sunny spot and did a lot to ease his nerves. Letting his eyes roam over the forest stretched out far beneath him like an emerald ocean he reflected on what he was about to do.

Resting square on his thighs was what the dragon had sent him for, a long straight branch he had found beneath the trees after some searching and poking through bushes. His makeshift rod was slightly shorter than the lances he was used to but would serve well for what he had in mind.

Only a few minor motion sequences, nothing too extraordinary... Thranduil clenched his jaw. He was walking a fine line between humouring the dragon but not giving away too much information at the same time and boring her, which would undoubtedly result in his slow and agonising death.

After a while of contemplating he sighed and got up. He might as well get it over with and his thoughts were getting him nowhere.

Grabbing his weapon he entered the tunnel and was soon surrounded by darkness. Thranduil found he missed the sun in this long hours he spent inside the cave. The dark around him made him feel nervous, even if the dragon were absent he would be on edge.

* * *

Upon entering the cave itself he immediately recognised two things.

Vahrii was clinging headfirst to the stonewall opposite him, watching him with blue eyes. Her gaze was filled with curiosity and disdain at the same time and Thranduil felt a strange feeling of trepidation wash over him.

Nervously he gripped the lance in his hands tighter.

The other thing he noticed, even before spotting the dragon, was a large campfire burning in the middle of the cave. The flames were of a dull, almost amber orange and the longer Thranduil looked at them, the more unnatural they seemed.

Apart from the fact that the flames seemed to literally be living from air – he couldn't spot even one piece of wood – they seemed to grow and shrink in a steady rhythm but stay the same size all the while. It took him a while to puzzle it out but realisation hit him once he set eyes on Vahrii.

With every breath the dragon took the fire expanded, and with every stream of air she released it shrunk back, only to grow once again.

Thranduil stared in awe. "Is this-," he began quietly but trailed off soon enough, eyes transfixed on the amber flames.

"Dragonfire, yes." Vahrii's smooth voice filled the cave, causing the stone surrounding them to vibrate softly.

"It burns as long as I want it to, and should I perish before it is extinguished it will live on. Nothing will be able to dull its flame except my will."

The Elf shuddered with gruesome realisation as he remembered the burned and blackened area at the foot of the mountain. The serpent before him could have easily burned the whole forest if given enough time.

Her rumbling voice sounded again, causing his attention to refocus on her. Piercing gaze hefted upon him, Vahrii growled, "You are extremely fortunate to witness this, Elf. For most people whom encounter a dragon, this fire is the last thing they see before they die." She blinked and cocked her head, considering him. "The fact that you are _still _alive speaks volumes."

Thranduil did not miss the way she emphasised the word still. With an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach, he couldn't think of anything to say in response so he merely inclined his head, hoping the gesture would be enough to satisfy the dragon.

Obviously, it did, for when she spoke again, there was a faint note of appreciation in her voice. "However, your overall response to it is correct."

He frowned, mulling over her words before he dared to raise his head and throw her a puzzled look. Vahrii ignored the obvious question playing across his features. Instead, she held his gaze and he noticed she appeared somewhat pleased.

If possible, this confused him even more. What was she referring to?

A rumbling laugh at his obvious perplexity had him straightening up. Fixing his eyes on the dragon who regarded him with amusement dancing in her gaze he forced his emotions back behind a mental wall. His control over his body had slipped far too often around the dragon for Thranduil to be comfortable with. He would rectify this from now on.

Vahrii surveyed him with interest at the sudden change in his demeanour but did not comment on it. The Elf took her silence as a sign to begin whatever it was she expected him to do.

Gripping the wood in his hands tighter, he held it up and spoke, "Lady Vahrii, I have accomplished the task you asked of me. Now what do you wish me to do?"

His voice came out strong and sure, his face gave away nothing but on the inside Thranduil could feel a spark of anxiousness well up in his chest. He quashed it quickly, forcing down the unwelcome emotion until there was nothing left but a faint tingle.

Vahrii chuckled and, once again, Thranduil shivered at the sound. It was a strange combination of foreboding and soothing and did nothing to calm his fluttering nerves.

"Such a pretty choice of words," Vahrii purred, a hint of mockery tinting her words. Her blue eyes, full of amusement, seemed to harden all of a sudden. Thranduil shivered at the coldness of her gaze.

Her next words were harsh and venomous, filled with such malice it caused Thranduil to take a step back.

"You disgust me, Elf. You and your kind think you are superior to all and everything. Just because you possess the gift of longevity – in the end it has turned out as not a gift but a curse. It has meddled with your brains, lured you into thinking you are better."

Thranduil held his breath as her words increased in volume until she was all but roaring. He could all but feel Vahrii's temper rising. Her tail smashed into the wall of the cage with such force it caused the molten stone to split as she worked herself up into a frenzy. A long crack made its way upwards to the ceiling in the blink of an eye, pieces of rock and dust rained down on Thranduil and he had to jump aside to avoid being hit.

"You play noble, you seek to perfect the art of both the spoken and written word so you can hide your incompetence behind pretty words alone. You -"

She faltered midsentence, hissing, her nostrils flaring and producing clouds of smoke. Hate burned in her eyes when she propped herself up on her forelegs, raising her head. Still clinging to the wall of the cave she reverted her ancestors' tongue as human language failed her, words of power vibrating through the cave and causing the ground to shake.

"_**Rotnisfiik wuth pogaas kinzhind hindinok. Lein fentkosdo sehinreyliik! Him fentnikos ahstokluft! Him -**_"

The wooden lance fell to the ground with a quiet clatter that drowned in the dragons rage when Thranduil turned tail and ran.

* * *

He did not get very far. After only a few steps a wall of fire flared to life in front of him, causing him to stumble backwards. The air around him began to crackle and heated up in a matter of seconds. Suddenly the collar of Thranduil's loose-fitting tunic seemed too tight.

A quick jump aback carried him away from the fire and it was this action which saved his life as the flaming wall in front of him roared upwards with a sudden burst of energy.

"You will not run," Vahrii thundered. Thranduil spun around in order to search for the dragon he could not see but something else caught his gaze.

Eyes wide, he stared at the very centre of the cave which was rimmed with rings of flames.

The once so peaceful campfire had at least doubled in size, its amber colour so bright it almost blinded him. Flames shaped like claws and jaws lashed out at him, shot towards him only to dissolve once they were near enough to cause damage.

Fear took hold of Thranduil. He heard the blood rushing in his ears, the erratic beating of his heart felt like blows of a hammer. The smell of singed cloth and hair filled the air around him and when he tried to move his feet he noticed the sole horn of his boots had started to melt.

"You will stay, and you will listen!" Vahrii's voice sounded from somewhere to his left.

Bitterness floated through him as Thranduil realised this would be the end of him. Whatever the dragon had to say, he would not last long enough to hear her out even if he wanted to. Already the air around him was too hot to breathe.

When he heard Vahrii hiss somewhere behind him it was as if something in his mind gave way. A strange calmness washed over him and drove back the overwhelming fear until there was nothing left but the sound of his hammering heart. His head was empty and therefore he did not quite register as the next words the serpent spoke.

"You know I am the one in power, Elfling, yet you continue to clad my commands in words which seek to soften them. I do not _ask_ anything of you,_** mahlfaliil**_. I _command_. I command you and you obey, because you know the outcome would devastate you were you to do otherwise. I will _not_ be put to shame by your flourish. You will _not_ belittle me. I am a _dragon_!"

The last word she all but roared and along with her ire the flaming walls around Thranduil flared upwards.

A small, still functioning section of his brain registered she was circling him as she spoke. Therefore, he was not surprised when he could make out the shadow of her bulk in front of him, cloaked in fire.

Blue eyes burned bright with rage and her scales glowed in the golden light of the flames as she stretched her neck, brought down her head to face him and hissed,

"_And I will be treated as such_."

* * *

Her quiet words were laced with venom. Staring into his empty eyes, Vahrii regarded Thranduil for a moment before she bared her teeth.

"You will come back."

Pulling back, she rose as high as the cave would allow, looking down at the Elf she held his gaze for a moment. Then she spoke again. One single word that rung in his ears like the stroke of a bell. It vibrated through him, set his nerves on fire and spurred him into action. Without hesitation, he heeded her command.

Running at full speed he cut across the cave towards the exit. The flames blocking his path shrunk back when he approached only to flare back to life even higher once he was past them.

The seconds stretched into eternity. Every step he took seemed to slow him down, the molten soles of his boots clung to the floor as if smeared with resin.

Finally, finally, he made it into the tunnel and to the exit.

Fresh air hit him square as he stumbled into the light. He faltered in his step, stumbled and before he could process what was happening he was rolling down the stony flank of the mountain.

* * *

Staring up into the sky, Thranduil did not move for a long time. His whole body hurt and he was sure he had broken two fingers while tumbling down the slope. Blinking slowly, Thranduil looked at the clouds above him. The sun was about to set and everything was tinged a soft red, indicating night was about to fall. He did not care.

He did not care for anything. Not for how long he had been lying on the gravel at the foot of the mountain. Not for his aching body or the fact Thûr seemed to be absent – the horse must have bolted when Vahrii started going on rampage. Not that he could blame him.

He did not even care for the pointed rock which had been boring into his shoulder ever since his fall had come to a sudden halt and made lying on the ground extremely uncomfortable.

The only thing Thranduil could focus on was to breathe. Pull air into his lungs, release it. Breathe in, breathe out. Fresh, cool air, carrying with it the scent of wood and rain.

And all the while, the last word Vahrii had said to him before he fled rung through his mind.

_"Run."_

* * *

You don't need to know what Vahrii is saying in this chapter - after all, Thranduil is unable to understand her, too.

It will be disclosed as the story continues anyways :)


End file.
